


in this part of the story (i am the one who dies)

by caughtinkhanded



Series: the memory of you [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caughtinkhanded/pseuds/caughtinkhanded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this part of the story I am the one who<br/>Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,<br/>Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood. </p><p>-Pablo Neruda</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. from cold to fire

People have been claiming that the world will end at some time or another for thousands of years. You have been around for many of those theories. You’ve watched the dates come and go as the world spins on. There have been no skies of fire or any final judgment; just earth, spinning on uncaringly. 

You, in all your years, had never put any stock into the idea of the world crashing and burning down around you. And anyway, what could the heavens do that human beings didn’t do to each other. No, you had laugh in the face of the religious nuts who had claimed a final days; you had mocked those who put their faith in a theorized apocalypse. You had always assumed that human beings and their earth would continue on. 

For years, while you were buried in the ground, you thought about how the end of the earth might come. Most of the time you prayed to whatever deity was listening to end the pitiful earth so that your suffering would end. But there were occasional moments, small glimmers of hope where you tried to hang onto the dregs of your humanity. (Those moments were few and far between) 

To a vampire, the end of days is nothing. It is unrealistic. 

But your world just crashed around your ears. Your world had come to an abrupt end. It ended with an ill-aimed gun. The gun was meant for you. 

Blood. The essence of life was seeping out of your world. Your world lay at your feet, a surprised expression on her increasingly pale face. 

“La-laura?” you choked out, tendrils of anger and pain strangling your words. You drop to her side. (The battle still rages on around you, but you could care less what happens to you) 

You pressed down on the wound in her chest and abdomen, but there’s too much blood, god damn it. 

“No, no, c’mon, cutie. You’ve got to stay awake.” You sob, cradling her to your chest. Her blood covers you now, reminding you for a final time of her delicate mortality. 

There’s a soft whisper against your chest as you clutch her to you, trying desperately to tether her to the earth and to you. You shift her slightly, forcing yourself to smile through the tears. “I-I’m so-sorry, Carm. For ev-ever-thing.” 

“Hush, my love. You have nothing to apologize for.” But she did, you know this. You both have so much to apologize for but there is no time for that. 

Laura lets out a pitiful cough that may as well have been a stake coated in holy water to your chest. Her big brown eyes begin to cloud over as they blink slowly up at you. You can only watch as the blood runs away from her body in rivulets. 

“I love you, Carmilla.” 

You smile down at her as she takes a shaky last breath. “I love you, Laura.” 

As her eyes close for a final time, you look up, the final part of your humanity locked away with your memories of Laura.


	2. in fire and blood

Your mother died when you were eight. The cancer that had lain dormant for so many years had reappeared and she was gone within the month. You didn’t understand why Mommy had to go to the hospital or why your Daddy was crying. You sat by her side and drew pictures and read stories, until one day she was gone. 

Your Nana died when you were thirteen. She had known for a while and had explained it all to you in the months preceding her death. You were prepared that time. You smiled at your Nana and gave her lots of hugs. And at her funeral, you read a poem. 

Your Papa had followed Nana a year later. His heart had given out from grief. He didn’t smile much that last year. Your Dad gave you a small smile as he said that Papa and Nana were together again. 

From a young age, you understood that death was natural. Until you met her. She was a contradiction to everything you had ever known. Carmilla was a force of nature. 

The first time you lost her in the fight to destroy the Light it felt as if your body was out of line, something was off within your soul. 

The second time you lost her, not in the physical sense mind you, you knew it was your fault, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like somebody had carved out your heart. 

Now you knew, but it was too late. You knew as soon as Kirsch told you to sit down. You couldn’t trust your voice, so you let him talk. The words barely registered though. You only caught snippets. “Vordenburg…dead…over…Carmilla…dead.” 

You were barely aware of what your body was doing as you let out an unearthly scream. Kirsch caught you as you tripped forward. 

No, she couldn’t be gone. She told you she was done being the hero. 

“Take me to her.” The words were out of your mouth before your brain realized what had happened. Kirsch hesitates for a moment before scooping you into his arms like a small child. 

You sob into his shoulder, your heart in shattered pieces. You sob for Carmilla, for the brave girl who believed she was a monster. You sob for Mattie, who died because her sister fell in love. You sob for Danny, for the gentle girl who just wanted to be a hero. You sob for yourself, for your heart, for all the pain you’ve caused. 

Kirsch stops and lowers you to the ground softly. Your feet want to give out as you see her, sprawled across the ground, blood smeared across her pale cheeks and matted in her dark hair. All around her are dead Vordenburg minions and the man himself. 

You drop to your knees next to her, clutching for her cold hand. “Carm, I’m sorry.” 

“Laura,” Kirsch lays a hand on your shoulder, “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“She died thinking I hated her.” You press your forehead to hers. “I love you, you stupid vampire.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do apologize for the angst, really truly. But I am super excited that this is my first Carmilla story! I'm hoping to write more, but of the less angst-y variety.


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